Trial without Error, Sentance without Trial
by Digger McFoogle
Summary: Sirius meets Shaula in a secured room before his sentence is passed for Azkaban. They are of a similar background, and both followed good and evil with equal valour. Yet how did they both end up here, in the same place?


Trial Without Error, Sentence Without Trial

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Sirius meets Shaula in a secured room before his sentence is passed for Azkaban. They are of a similar background, and both followed good and evil with equal valour. Yet how did they both end up here, in the same place? (Sirius/Remus, Missing Moment)

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A/N- Shaula was a minor character in a Bellatrix fic I was working on, but I liked her so much I gave her her own fifteen minutes of fame! JK Rowling owns everything else, even the Corvus name in essence. Spartina owns the name Shaula though! Thanks for the idea!

He had sat there for hours unmoving, watching tiny beads of water trickling down the cold, damp walls that imprisoned him. He was not in Azkaban yet, oh no; the cell he was locked in now was silent as the grave. When he arrived in Azkaban there would be screaming.

"You, Follow me…"

He knew that voice. The voice of Alastor Moody boomed in the hallway outside, the great Moody who was once a friend and confidante, and whom two days ago had brought him to this cell. Moody now thought he was a traitor to Lily and James, and led them to their death. It made sense for them all to think it was him, in many ways. Sirius was a Black. Moody was always a believer that blood was thicker than water.

"You'll be in here," Sirius heard the gruff voice say. "Another one of your lot's in there. Perhaps you'll have the time to reminisce about all the innocent lives you've taken."

The door opened, and a hunched dark figure was thrust through the door, hunched over and crying silently under a thick black cloak. She slumped on the floor unmoving aside from her sharp intakes of breath.

"You might as well get up" he whispered in a low rumble. "You'll be here for a while yet."

The crying stopped as suddenly as it had started. Crocodile tears; he'd grown to know them well. A small cough emitted from the hunched mass, and she stood slowly, letting the hood of her cloak fall and reveal short, uneven lengths of matted mousey hair. Though she was young as himself, he noted at once the sallow complexion of her skin. She looked fearfully unwell. Her rather bulbous hazel eyes shone prominently through her lank hair as she turned to him. Her thin lips curved into a smile, revealing uneven, yellow teeth.

"I know you."

Her voice was light yet strained. Sirius noted a slight welsh tone in it. She smiled wider as she continued, "Yes, I know you. You're the Betrayer Black."

He snarled at the name, baring his teeth and barking at her, "I am no betrayer! I would never betray my friends."

"Oh, I don't mean your friends, pet," she laughed sitting herself against the damp wall he had been staring at for hours. "I mean your blood. The ones that matter, you know? Blood is thicker than water."

There it was again. That bloody phrase which had bought him here. He was damned by both sides; his friends thought he'd betrayed them for his family honour, and his family knew he'd betrayed them for the love he had found elsewhere. It was an impossible situation, yet perfect for a scapegoat. That was why he'd laughed in Pettigrew's face.

"I know you didn't betray your friends," she continued. Her voice began to grate on his patience. "We all know it wasn't you. But it makes a good story for the papers, doesn't it? All of the Black's involved in this shady business. They'll have a field day picking you to pieces, the vultures will."

He did not respond- he knew she was right. First Bella, heir of Orion's strain of the family, then himself, heir of Leo- it would make sense to them that they both held their family's honour in their hearts. And for himself to leave home and declare openly his distain for his family, well, Moody considered that the cleverest point of planning. By severing himself from his roots he must have thought himself free from suspicion, that was the conclusion met by the famed and brilliant Auror.

"My name is Shaula."

He did not respond yet again. He had never heard that name. She coughed and continued. "Shaula Grindelia Corvus, though you probably only knew me as Delia."

He looked straight into her eyes. Delia, that was a name he knew. Delia Corvus was a Ravenclaw in his year.

"I know you."

She laughed at the echo of her own words. "Yes, you do. Not well mind you, but by name and sight. I suppose I've changed a bit."

"Beyond recognition. I remember you being pretty."

"Oh, I was never pretty. Just in better health, that's all."

"Weren't you a prefect?"

"Weren't you a troublemaker? There's no need to recall old times now, Mr Black. We're here, aren't we? And I for one wont be coming out alive."

"Weren't you half-blooded?" he prodded again. He seemed to distinctly remember her mother being Muggle-born…

She seemed willing enough to answer this time. "No, I was raised by one though," she spat, looking away from him. "My great-uncle and his Muggle whore. Apparently my mother never approved, but had no choice, see? She was a dedicated follower of The Dark Lord, knew him in his earliest days apparently. She couldn't let a little thing like a child quell her dedication."

"So where is she now?" he asked bitterly, knowing the answer full well already. Dead or-

"Missing somewhere in Romania, so Bella tells me." He tensed at the sound of his cousin's name. She was a foul, evil beast whom he hated beyond any reasoning. She was the first to join the Dark Lord from the family- she saw it as some kind of Great Romantic Adventure, to follow a Lord without a name and give her life in servitude. That was Bella; adventurous, daring and utterly, utterly reckless. They were one and the same, Blacks through and through.

"She talks about you" Shaula prodded, sitting herself next to him on his wall. "You were apparently her favourite as children. She is… five years older than us, if I'm right? Yes, five years… she told me how you'd both explore the woods around her house in the country. Andromeda didn't care for it and Narcissa was too scared. But you'd go with her?"

"That's right," he said, his throat dry and cracking. It seemed odd that someone who was in all rights a stranger should know so much of his youth.

"Why did you not follow her again?"

"Because it's wrong."

"It's wrong is it? Is it wrong to defend your culture?"

"It's wrong to kill people for it, yes."

"They'll kill enough people in the fight against us."

"They are innocent people!" he barked at her, standing and walking to the other side of the tiny cell. "Your great-aunt, the woman that raised you like a mother, could you kill her in such cold blood?"

"Yes," she whispered, unflinching as she sat. "Yes, after everything, I believe I could."

"How?"

She did not reply for a good time. He sat on the other side and considered her carefully. She was not Delia anymore; the few memories he had of her were flooding back. He remembered a kind girl who sat quietly in lessons, who always received the very best grades. He remembered the only time they ever spoke, when she accompanied Peter Pettigrew to their leaver's ball at the end of seventh year. They'd all teased him for not having a date- James had finally convinced Lily to go with him, Lupin took a pleasant Hufflepuff girl called Cuby Wells, and he himself had secured the hand of the prettiest girl in school, Isolda Clarke. So Peter chose the smartest girl in the year to go along with the prettiest, nicest and most popular. The two most unlikely people to turn to murder, Peter Pettigrew and Delia Corvus…

"I put it to you," he heard her say in a tone that reminded him of her former self. "That the main reason for you turning on our blood is love."

He frowned. "Of course it is. I love my friends, I wouldn't betray them-"

"No, you misunderstand me," she laughed, her eyes sparkling for a moment. "For _real _love. Passion, lust, devotion, protection. I have no doubt you loved Lily well enough not to want to kill her, but there's more than that… who is it that is most at risk in this little war of ours? Half-bloods, lycanthropes…"

This was not a conversation he wanted to get into. She was _not _allowed to talk about Remus, or any of the others. The mere mention of Lily had riled him; his fists were balled and he bit his tongue to stop from attacking her. "You still haven't answered my question," he growled, standing and advancing towards her, stooping in front of her and spitting in her face. "How could you kill them?"

Her nostrils flared. She blinked rapidly, then took a deep breath. "Have you ever killed?" she asked him finally, holding his stare and meeting its ferocity.

"Not yet," he replied, "Though I am sure I could make exception."

"Always the joker, weren't you Black?" she snapped at him, still unmoving. "It's not so simple in reality, you know. It's never a case of wanting, not the first time. It's necessity, always necessity. The first person I killed, I broke my heart. He was so _young, _you see, barely away from his mother I believe. But Bella told me Our Lord wanted him dead, so there I was, with no choice in the matter. I was never in the inner circle, none of us women were, except Bella. Our particular sect were always charged with assassination.'

'He greeted me with a friendly smile when it came to it. I always loved that smile, it had always made me feel at ease. Then the smile faded, and his eyes sort of glazed, like he was petrified or something. Then it was a case of two words. Two simple words and he'd die. And he did, just like that. The feeling when you look down at a corpse and know those glassy eyes are your own doing, is the most bizarre feeling in the world. Absolute power, yet a feeling of having nothing left in the world. That's how I felt, and have done since that day."

"You didn't have to kill him. There was no necessity. He didn't threaten you."

"Don't you see Black? It's all about survival, it's what we fight for. The survival of our heritage. Don't you understand that they're destroying our culture? That is why we fight for it."

He stared at her in disbelief. How could she honestly believe that? How could she honestly think there was any justification for killing people because of their birth? After all, almost every wizard family had some Muggle blood in it…

"How do you know you're not half-blooded?" he snarled at her, backing off and returning to his side of the space. "You told me about your mother, but who was your father?"

He saw her falter then. Her smile dropped; she looked at him as if he were a dog. "I… I don't know-"

"Ah! You don't know!" he laughed, "You don't know yet you never doubted it. Was your mother so pure? How could you know-"

"My mother was a Black, she was pure. Bella tells me."

"Of course, _Bella _told you. Your dear Bella, she tells you a lot doesn't she? Family details, how and whom to murder-"

"You don't know anything. You're a betrayer. You have no loyalty. You have no faith."

"I am loyal to those who deserve it!"

"Yet you have no faith in them!" she cried finally, standing and crowing down at him. "You suspected poor Remus, didn't you? And suspected you! The seeds sown by Peter took root, and you lost your faith in your lover!"

He stared at her, his mouth dry and eyes wide. She had said it. She had said what he could never have ever told himself. Remus Lupin was his lover.

It had never seemed real when it happened. Kisses swept over his lips like shadow, his touch seemed to be like light. They never spoke of it; how could they? In this ever changing society sexuality was not worth discussion. And besides, he had always told himself it couldn't be real. One day he would find a woman to marry as would Remus, and their fun would be over as soon as James' was. It would never last. It couldn't ever last.

"All for love," he heard her whisper as she sat down next to him. "You should do everything for love if you find it."

"I did. I sacrificed everything for my love of my friend. My best friend."

"Remus is alone now, did you think of that? And he thinks you betrayed him, how must that feel? If you had believed in him, think of what great things could have been done? You could have found the true traitor."

"Aren't I the traitor?"

"In many ways you are, but I cant be held over you. I have killed with my own wand. I have killed with weapon, and I have killed with my bare hands. Now I shall lose everything for it."

"Why do you think you're going to die?"

"Because I am," she said curtly. "They wont risk Azkaban for me. I know things."

"What things?"

"Things that don't concern you, or you'll lose your life and I'll have lost everything."

"What do you mean you'll have lost everything?"

"All for love, Black. Ah look, they're coming for us at last."

Before he could question her, he heard the footsteps of the Aurors coming for them. The heavy 'clank-clank' of Moody's new limb echoed ion the silence that now prevailed; he looked at her, and she smiled at him back as she was dragged to her feet. Moody growled at them, and spat as he led them out of the door.

"Come, your sentence is ready."

He had not expected there to be a grand turn out to the sentencing. The only people he recognised present were old Barty Crouch, Alastor Moody and Amelia Bones, who were all three sitting above him, staring down at them both. He glanced over at Shaula, yet she did not look back. Her eyes were fixed on Crouch's, boring through him like a candle flame. Then slowly she parted her lips and flashed an animalistic grin.

Sirius watched Crouch's face shrivel into a deep-set scowl. He leered down at her and she laughed, softly at first, then a loud cackle that reverberated over the room like a terrible thunder. Sirius felt his hands begin to shake; that laugh reminded him of Bellatrix.

"Let us get this over with," he heard Crouch mumble under the laughter, his face puce with rage. "Will somebody silence this woman!"

"We can't sir, its against regulation!"

Crouch tutted under his breath and turned to the scribe. "You will not record the following event. Guards, cast a silencing spell. There is no need for her to speak."

"But sir-"

"No buts, just do it. Court rise for the sentencing of Shaula Grindelia Black-Corvus and Master Sirius Mikhael Narcissus Black-Black, heir to the line of Leo."

"You cannot do this!" cried a voice from the galleries. "He has not even been tried!"

"Silence! Order!" cried Crouch, watching as an air of disarray fell across the court. The crowds divided between hysterical females shrieking for reprieve and the deep, growls of those angry folk for whom the papers told the absolute truth- that he was guilty without need for trial.

Over all of the cacophonous shouts, one voice rang clear. Sirius looked over to Shaula, who was fighting against being bound by the Aurors and screaming at the top of her voice in an array of tears and anger- "_I did everything for the love of Black."_

Suddenly her cries halted, and her mouth moved without effect. The noise in court slowly died as he felt himself be dragged to his feet. He didn't even want to admit it to himself, but his legs were shaking, his mouth was dry and his palms sweaty. Sirius Black was afraid.

He looked to Shaula. These, he decided, were not crocodile tears. She was petrified as was he was, and more. Her crimes must have been playing heavily on her mind. He couldn't contemplate what it would be like to really kill- he had every intention of finishing off Pettigrew, but he knew deep down it wouldn't have been so easy. Her description earlier had flown by him; he had been so incensed by her shocking lack or morals he had barely listened to her words. Now the more he thought of them, the more ashamed he felt that he would never be able to kill, not even the vilest of creatures.

Barty Crouch too had risen, peering over his small square spectacles like a teacher about to scold children. "I have little to say for both of you. You are both guilty of murder in the first degree, a most heinous crime. One of you is a serial killer, and assassin, the other a traitor and heartless manipulator. Both of you have killed people close to you, people we all assumed were your friends and companions without shame. However, both of you have also killed innocent people. You are cold and heartless beings, well bred of your family I have no doubt."

Sirius heard a snigger from the galleries above him. He did not feel the need to look up; it was irrelevant now what would be said. There was no way of proving his innocence unless Peter showed his face, and no matter what occurred that would be impossible.

"Sirius Mikhael Narcissus Black-Black, you have been charged with the murder of Peter Pettigrew, the betrayal and subsequent deaths of Lily and James Potter, and the rather _convenient _manslaughter of twelve muggles. You are a disgrace to your house and all those who believed in you and gave you their trust despite your dubious upbringing. I take great pleasure in sentencing you to life imprisonment in Azkaban."

There were a few mumbles in the court, but the silence prevailed; Sirius looked downwards the entire time, the horror of the words hitting him like bullets. He wanted to scream and cry, tell them about Pettigrew's disgusting grin as he cut off his own finger and blew the street to smithereens… how he wished he'd died in that blaze rather than be sentenced to a lifetime of guilt. However… then the blame would most likely be out on Remus… that alone would be worse than his situation.

"Shaula Grindelia Black Corvus. You stand charged with deaths of people who have been mutilated to effect of being unrecognisable. In total fifty-six bodies have been recovered, only nine of those have been identified- the list reads from most recent as Morag Sutton, Lucy Pennington, Benjy Fenwick, Mary Drake, Marius Malfoy, Gideon Snape, Alistair Burke, Elspeth McNair and Regulus Black."

The name struck him like a dagger to the heart. He had never thought it would hurt this much- it was news he had been anticipating for a long time. His brain was telling him it was foolish to feel pain for a man such as his brother, but he hurt nonetheless. His own brother… had she been describing Regulus when she talked about killing? It seemed futile, but he could feel the rage rising in him, and before he knew it he had turned to her, his cries echoing over the silence.

"You killed him! You killed Regulus! You had the gall to sit and talk freely with me after brutally murdering my brother, when he was only a boy!"

He saw her eyes change in an instant. She struggled against her bonds, her mouth shouting as no sound omitted from her lips.

"Sir, you must let her speak, call it her final statement!" called the scribe, who by now had ended any pretence of following the outrageous events. Crouch sat back in his chair and coughed neatly. "Very well. Retract the spell. Lets hear what this lunatic has to say."

Sirius found himself frozen in anger. Shaula merely smiled as the spell wore away and her voice came through…

"-and I think I'll give you extra brownie point if you can find the body of Caradoc Dearborn, I don't even know where he is. I worked on orders from the top, despite how much I loved some of the traitors like Regulus, it was always for the bigger picture. I don't have ties beyond my blood, but blood draws me to this cause and I will fight through everything to serve my family, and the house of Black!" She paused, her smile dying down for a moment. Shaking, she spoke again, softer this time. "That's why I wont lie to you; Sirius Black is innocent, I betrayed the Potters."

He felt his heart stop. He couldn't even fathom her intentions. She had killed his brother, spend hours upon hours convincing him of this wrongs and defending Bellatrix and all he himself stood against… then he realised. Everything she had done in the past was on Bellatrix's orders. All her ideals were fed through the family. All for love. Not the love of a person or an ideal, but the love of the family name she should have owned.

He heard a huff of disbelief from above him. "There are witnesses! They have placed Black at the scene! You are criminally insane, and I have no choice but to sentence you-"

"-You don't believe me! Find a rat, there is a rat and his true identity is Peter Pettigrew-"

There was a swarm of outrage at the comment. Sirius vaguely picked out comments- "He was a hero!" "How dare she slight poor Peter's name!" "The nerve of it!" - and it made his anger pulse with an intensity never felt before. He fought against his chains, barking up at Crouch. "It's true! He is an Animagus!"

"Preposterous, there are hardly any registered Animagi and Pettigrew was certainly not one of them. Cast the spells again, gentlemen; it seems both of these creatures refuse to stay silent."

He could feel all hope trickle away as his voice melted into nothingness. He fought and strained still, desperately clinging to the fact that _somebody _knew of the truth and was willing to share it.

"Shaula Grindelia Black Corvus, in light of your horrific style of murder and your obvious dangerous lack of mental control, I feel I have no choice than to sentence you to the Dementors Kiss."

The room was still with shock. Sirius saw Shaula sink into her chair in horror. This was unexpected, even to hear. The Kiss was alone worse than death.

He looked around him. The galleries were full of open-mouthed, stunned spectators and Auror's who silently agreed with the decision. It was almost like a silence of respect for the condemned. He stared at her, and she stared back. They weren't who they were at school, neither of them were. It was a world away now from their OWL's, when Lupin had faithfully told him that she'd spent the whole Defense against the Dark Arts paper staring at him, or the Seventh-year ball where he'd danced with her just to prove to Peter that he could have any girl he wanted. Those things were so trivial and yet so intricate; now the world seemed void of pleasantries and complicated decisions- there was dark or light, good or evil. They had chosen opposite paths, and somehow ended up here, in the same place, one facing a lifetime of guilt, and one facing a lifetime of memories she would rather leave behind. He knew the face that would haunt her would belong to Regulus, and somehow that seemed right. Both of them would be haunted with faces they loved and could not save.

Sirius felt the final words on the air. He broke the contact with Shaula, knowing that he would never see her face again and never miss it.

"Take them away."


End file.
